A reflection on John 18
What is truth? Cynicism confronts irony. All the while he stares into the eyes…
Magic leaps like bunnies from the grass blade stubbleson grandfather mushroom…
When the earth spins around the sun,God remains jovial at the thought of recession,the jolt of…
Cherry trees wait for their plucking,red liquid drips down your face in feast,you are colour blind…
A poem
When the stars land on the moon we will see through clarity,intentions of the Gods to populate with joy…
To say the old no longer care,oversimplifies. The smells,musty-sweet like death, lingerin our clothes and we can’t helpbut…
I think of life — a blank pageall I do is read and the poems speak to me quietly.
A poem for Madonna
Whence acting becomes a format, silver specks in speculation,allowing oneself to become who…
A Poem
Hurling over tantric waters, wood bursts at the point of refraction,this is where magic occurs, in the…
when I was sixteen my brother and Imanaged to burn down twenty acresof pine in a day it was not ourintent our controlled burn…